The Tail of a Hero
by littlebonelady
Summary: We all know their story. But what of there was someone else there to see it, too? The tale of a true hero, as only a dog could tell it. Based on a book I read
1. 1: From Humble Beginnings

** A/N: Hey! It's been a while, hasn't it? So, this was inspired when I read _the Art of Racing in the Rain_, and is kind of heavily based on that. If I stole too much from it, just tell me, but other than that, enjoy it!**

** XXXXXXXXXX**

** I: From Humble Beginnings**

I am not afraid to die.

On this particular night, I know that it is the end for me. I am laying in my bed, unable to move, immobilized by the pain in my hips. I want to move too, I am hungry. But every time I try to chew, the food just lingers on my tongue and eventually slides off, cruelly not allowing me to get its nutrients, or even taste it before it falls.

One of my master Seeley's friends had said that I should be put down. He disagreed, said it was a stupid idea. But even I knew that it was for the best.

My master has many intellectual friends. One of his dearest is a well-toned woman with slightly curled brunette hair, a squared jaw, and wide hips and full breasts that are well-suited for childbirth. She is not only stunning, but one of the smartest of his friends, and for hours she would talk to him, spouting the most incredible knowledge.

I was always there, either at his feet or lurking. But either way, I would listen.

Dogs are, as a general rule, smart, but I was always searching to learn more. I drank in information quickly. When Seeley and his son would watch an educational channel on television, I would sit beside them, rapt with attention. Or when the boy was just beginning to learn to read, he would read to me. Yes, it was slow learning, but I picked up more knowledge nonetheless. And countless nights would be spent with the woman talking. As she spouted knowledge, I lapped it up, eager for more. Seeley it seemed sometimes couldn't care less about what she was saying though. He would stare at her with his puppyish brown eyes. That's how I knew.

He loved her more than any one of his other friends from work who he would occasionally drink with, and the colleagues of this woman. There was just something special about her that intrigued him. And he loved that. I saw many women come and go in his day, but none seemed to stick like her. I would listen to him while he slept. He would talk. Yell, sometimes, and a lot of it seemed to be about her. Were these nightmares of her loss, or the most erotic dreams he had ever had?

He even left her subtle hints in his interaction with her that he was pining for her. He would guide her with his palm on her lower back, he would get close to her when he talked, he even had a pet name for her. Bones. He told himself that it was just to piss her off in the beginning, but even then I could smell the attraction on him; sense the longing to get closer; to become something more than just partners.

Whenever she came over, or we met with her, I would listen intently, learning more and more every day. I loved it, too. It was almost as if she knew everything. If he said something wrong, she would correct him, or spout knowledge that pertained to the subject. But my favorite was when she went back to her Anthropology roots. She told of mysterious tribes in foreign lands that had cultures other than our own.

The Mongolians were by far my favorite.

Bones spoke of how after Mongolian dogs died, the people would bury them up in the hills so that no one would tread on their graves. They would cut their tails off and put them under their heads as pillows, and would stick a piece of meat or fat in their mouths to ensure that they would last in to their journey in to the afterlife.

And when they died, they got reincarnated in to a human.

She said this to him when I was near to the end, but not as near as I am now. I remember that day.

Every day has a new scent, a new feel. That day was a dark, heavy day. All of them had been since my health had been in a steady decline. It smelled like rain and fall. We sat on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in the chilly morning air drinking coffee like we had a million times before. Bones' hair was straight with bangs at the time. It seemed less glossy, too, still depressed from the day that Seeley rejected her. Her eyes which used to be almost a Caribbean blue seemed more gray than ever. She, like me, had seen better days.

The comment was intended to make my master feel better, like most of her comments were, but he just hung his head low, sighed, and just said "I know what you're trying to say, Bones." He looked at me. I looked back with my heavy eyes and tried to raise my lips in a smile. He looked back at her. "But I'm just not ready to let him go."

"Booth," she said in a more serious tone, "It has come to my attention that Teddy has been having some problems with his joints in the last few years, and I'm trying to do what I think is best for him."

Oddly, I wasn't offended by this. I knew what was coming. I wasn't afraid. For some reason, I felt ready.

"_I'm ready to leave, Seeley, I really am._" I said. But he didn't hear me.

Ready to be a human.

When I am finally a real man, I shall find Seeley and his Bones, shake their hands and tell them that Teddy said hello. I will wink and walk away smiling, leaving them confused and surprised.

Their daughter will ask who Teddy is.

XXXXXXXXXX

My best memories were from the day he brought me home.

He plucked me out of a large pile of squirming pups, our gnashing teeth and flying fur didn't seem to bother him. We were playing. He understood.

I knew I could trust him the moment I felt his slightly calloused fingers on my scruff, pulling me from the herd. He brought me to his face, looking at me carefully with his warm brown eyes. He was a younger man then than he is now. A delicate stubble adorned his cheeks. His muscles rippled as he turned me in his arms, knowing what he was looking for in a healthy pup.

The owner of the farm where I had been born came up to him. A short, thick man with a scrunched face and a heavy Southern accent who always seemed to have an abundance of plaid and overalls. He looked to people like one of the nice farmers that treated animals with care, but we all knew what he really was. He couldn't care less about us. He scammed people out of their money. And for what? Enough money so he could go buy more overalls or a new cow the next weekend.

His wife we liked, though. She was a sweet woman. She was the one who took care for us, and our mother. She would often let us all snuggle together in her lap. I wouldn't tug on the ears of my fellow pups as they often did, but tried to get as close to her as I could. She was more of a mother to us than our own mother was, or that any of the others even realized.

Our own mother didn't seem to like us very much either. She seemed to get annoyed with us, always nipping to get fed, or for her to lie down and play or snuggle with us. What I suspected was that it wasn't her first litter.

"Well howdy," the farmer said in his thick Southern drawl, putting on the act he always did for clients. "What can I do fer ya?" The man at this point was just hovering. Although I had noticed him, my other playmates that I frolicked with didn't skip a beat of the biting and tumbling that we did. He was silhouetted by the sun, so his face was cast in to shadow.

I could tell he was a tall man, wearing a white tee and long pants. His jaw squared, his brow prominent and hair cut in to a military buzz. When he turned to face the farmer, his face became visible. He looked much younger than he does now; many of the lines he wears now were not there. His face looked longer, more tanned.

He didn't answer the farmer right away, just looked back at us, pondering how to word his question. But before he could answer, the farmer, who had a reputation for being annoyingly nosy asked him "Ya look like yer from the military or somethin." The man turned back to him, his face showing obvious signs of annoyance at his question. He was obviously one who did not enjoy sharing his personal life.

"I, um... Yeah, I am. I was stationed in Iraq for a couple years. Just got back a few months ago." He answered with a strong voice, but it wavered. The look in his eyes suggested sadness, loss. "If you don't mind," he said, clearing his throat and blinking rapidly a few times "I'd like to buy one of your dogs from you." He looked down at us again, obviously trying to decide.

"Yessiree!" the farmer said excitedly. He was always happy to get money for his dogs. "These here are some fine pups, their mom's an Australian Shepherd," he pointed at our mother, who was laying in the grass away from our pen, sleeping in the sun. "The father is a Collie mix, maybe a bit of Rottweiler in him. Good tracking dog. And where the pup's speckled color came from."

I remember looking at the blotchy coat on my back that day. Although the color was right, the feel was wrong. Whereas the parents' coats were thick and slightly wiry, ours were smoother and fluffier. Maybe it was just a recessive gene we got. Or maybe our father was really the Golden mix that lurked around the farm. Our mother could also explain for our coat color, so it wasn't really set in stone that the Collie mix was our father. The Golden was kinder than the Collie, which I could already tell even in us that we were friendlier than the collie was. Golden Retrievers are also respected for their intelligence.

Which I found I had plenty of. 

"Feel free ta pick 'un up," the farmer said. The man didn't need to be asked twice. I could see him grin as he reached down and pulled me up by the scruff of his neck. He looked me up and down.

"Gosh, ya must'a done this before!" the farmer said.

"Not really, sir. I had a dog as a kid, but I didn't get to pick him out. I just know what I'm looking for."

"And what exactly is that?" the farmer leaned in so that the brim of his hat almost brushed his chin.

"You know, a strong, healthy dog who can protect me. I may take him out in the work field with me once in a while, so I need to be able to train him easily."

"Oh, whatcha doing for work?" I almost cringed when he asked that. But I didn't.

"I'm in training to be an FBI agent. Maybe he could be useful to me in the field, you know?" The farmer nodded.

"Well, looks like ya got one there. How do you like i'm?"

This was maybe the first time I'd seen the man truly happy. "Oh, he's a gem." he smiled broadly and hugged me to his chest. "I think I'll take him." His warm hand stroked me all the way down my back. I took that opportunity to lazily put my nose to him and sniff. He smelled of shaving cream, deodorant and cologne, with a small amount of perspiration. He smelled like a man who was trying to please, but not really anyone in particular.

I liked that.

"Great! I'll go get the paperwork."

"Wait, before you do, how much are we talking about?" the man asked. I knew what was coming now. He would charge too much and the man would put me back.

"Five hundred even." the farmer said without a waver.

But he just shrugged it off and pulled out his checkbook.

I knew he was willing to do what was best for others. This just proved to me that he was strong enough to keep going, no matter what happened.

Later I would find out that this would happen a lot.

Before the man left with me, the farmer said to him "Ya never gave me yer name, boy." He held out his hand.

"Seeley." the man said, taking it. "Seeley Booth."

XXXXXXXXXX

I would look back on this moment often.

Especially when I was nearer to the end, I would remember the days when I didn't ache as much, when I could chew anything. When I would go to the park to run and chase sticks.

From my bed I hear a whistle. It's Seeley in the other room. He wants me to join him while he watches football. I lift my head a tiny bit, but I can't get up further than that. I choose to let sleep cloud my vision again.

Just minutes later, the whistle comes again. This time with a voice.

"Teddy? You there boy?"

I can't see them, but I imagine them sitting there, Seeley and Bones. Seeley would be watching the game with rapt attention and Bones would be either writing her next novel or house-hunting, maybe eating with one hand splayed over her swollen belly.

I hear them whispering.

"_Booth, maybe you should go see if he's okay. He seems to be having a lot of trouble standing up lately." Bones says, her voice not faltering even as she stares at her bright computer screen. Booth yells because his team just scored, not hearing her. _

"_What Bones?" he says, sitting down and setting his beer on the table. "What about Teddy?"_

"_I don't think he can get up." she says in a lower voice. "Go check on him." _

"_Aw come on. You're underestimating him." _

My ears perk up as he whistles again. I can't get up.

"Teddy boy, I know you're there. Come here!" Booth yells again.

"_Seriously Booth. I think he needs help." Brennan whispers, now looking up at him. Her eyes show worry. Booth just rolls his._

"_He'll come around, just you wait Bones." Booth coos, turning back to the game. She shrugs and goes back to her house-hunting, her hand flung over her stomach. _

I know now they may never come to get me.

I will not let that happen. My stomach growls and aches, ready to be filled with food. Since I cannot speak, I have only one choice.

"_Do you hear whining?" Booth asks Brennan. She looks at him again, concerned. "I think it's Teddy." Booth jumps up, but only because something happened on the screen he's watching, not paying attention. _

"_What didja say, Bones?" he asks, sitting down again._

"_Booth, Teddy is whining. I think he needs help up." and then mutters "Maybe if you weren't too busy yelling at the television you would hear him."_

"_All right, Bones." Booth says, finally giving in. "I'll go check on him."_

I hear as Seeley stops whispering and gets off the couch, the springs creaking slightly in relief. He pads over to me, his bare feet making a sticking sound on the wooden floor. I lift my head to greet him, but let it fall when he kneels beside me.

"Teddy, can you get up?" he asks softly.

"_No, I can't get up. Can't you see? I'm immobile!" _I want to shout. But all I am capable of doing is looking at him with large eyes pleadingly. I know that he can hear my stomach growling.

"Come on buddy. Let's get me something for you to eat." Seeley hooks his arm under my stomach and lifts me up with ease. I stretch my legs in hopes that it will soothe some of the pain in my hips. But it doesn't. It never does.

I trot in to the kitchen behind Seeley, watching with anticipation as he pulls a can of soft food that I can swallow without chewing much out of the cabinet. He opens it and plops the brown goo in a bowl and sets it down in front of me.

I look up at him. Over my many years of living, I have tired of the food they feed me quickly. I wish that my last meal could be something more tasteful. But I go to eat it anyways, Seeley watching me carefully.

"That's a good boy," I hear him say softly. I try to stand and eat the rest of the food to please him, but my legs are shaking, unable to support me. After a few moments, my legs give out easily, leaving me sprawled on the floor.

Seeley rushes over.

"Bones!" He calls. "Teddy fell. Get me the phone." I see Bones push herself heavily off the couch and waddle towards us, grabbing the phone as she passes it's charging dock. her eyes widen when she gets to me.

"I'm gonna call the vet," he informs her, still watching me. She kneels down next to me, using Seeley for support. He looks at her with sad eyes. "I don't think he'll be coming back after this one." I see a tear slide down his cheek as he dials. Bones puts her arm around him for comfort, and places his hand on her stomach. He smiles weakly at her, but then the person on the other end of the line picks up and he has to answer.

While he talks, Bones scoots closer to me and holds my head in her hand. She lifts it up so I face her.

"Oh Teddy," she whispers. "I told Booth not to let you suffer like this." Bones whispers to wipe a tear from her eye. I nuzzle in to her and close my eyes. "But he knew you weren't ready to die."

"_I'm ready!" _I yell. "_I want to die!" _

But of course, she doesn't hear me.

**XXXXXXXXXX**

**To be continued...**


	2. II: Finding Teddy

** A/N: Wowww sorry guys! This took so much longer than expected, and I know it wasn't cool. So, for those very few (could use some more reviews, btw,) who have started reading, here you go!**

** XXXXXXXXXX **

**II: Finding Teddy**

He named me after his military friend.

"Corporal Edward Parker," he said to me in the car home from the farm. "He was a good man." I stared at him with intent, and he looked over at me from the driver's seat and smiled. "You like stories?" he said and chuckled. "We used to call him Teddy. Like a teddy bear." I wagged my tail excitedly; I was learning things about this man! He was an interesting man, too. His name is Seeley, like the mattress. I would later find out that it means 'very happy' and is the origin of the word 'silly'. Why they named mattresses that, I don't know.

He saw me wag my tail excitedly and smiled even more. "You like the name Teddy?" he asked. My ears perked up even more. It was an adorable name for a dog. "Teddy it shall be then!" He waved his hand in front of me, as if he was casting a magic spell, and then touched my shoulders with his hands in a chopping motion and said "I hereby dub thee 'Teddy Booth'!"

Seeley is a silly man.

Although this got me excited, I still wanted to know more about his past and this mysterious Corporal Edward Parker. Unfortunately, my mouth is unfit for speech; my vocal chords underdeveloped and my tongue flat and large, unfit for forming coherent sentences.

So instead I barked twice.

"What, boy? Whatcha want?" he reached over to the passenger seat to scratch my head. I licked it politely in response. He just chuckled and laughed it off. Seeley put on the radio and turned it up loud. Ah, youth.

It wasn't until years later that I would learn about Teddy. I heard it of course when he relayed it to his Bones. The evening after he was saved by her, he sat her down and told her the story over a couple of beers and dinner. He was steady as a rock that time, but it was worse when he told it to one of his first loves.

Camille.

When he told her, it was at home. They had had a lovely evening, dinner at a fine restaurant, drinks at another. I knew when they stepped in that they were intoxicated and knew almost for sure what was soon to follow. My ears perked when they walked in, but as always I was neglected as they tripped over each other to get to Seeley's bedroom. I put my head under my paw to ensure their privacy. But when I heard talking instead of the sickly smack of their kisses, I went to investigate.

"Come on, Seeley. you can tell me anything." Camille's voice was muffled behind the bedroom door.

"Oh please, Camille. You know I'm fine. I mean, I took you out for dinner and drinks like you've been asking me to. I'm just my normal old smiling self!" I could practically hear him flash his bright grin. I heard the bed shift and Camille's dress ruffle as she slid across the sheets to comfort him.

"Listen to me. I know you. Something's wrong." Her hand crinkled the thick material of his suit. "Tell me." Seeley sighed. He couldn't hide anything from Camille. Or me, for that matter. He still can't. She was the first one he told about Bones' pregnancy. Well, besides Angela. And me.

"It's Teddy." He said in a bit of a ho-hum voice. Camille shifted.

"What's wrong with Teddy? He's still young. Do you give him his parasite medicine?"

"No, not that Teddy, Camille." She seemed to get it. I assumed that he had been referenced before. He went on. "It's the five year anniversary of his death."

"Oh Seeley." Her arm slid across his back. "Do you want to talk about it?" I knew that he had refused to tell the whole story until now. But for Camille? He would do anything. I heard a bit of a sniff.

"Teddy was a good man. He, um, he was quick with words, always trying to get the last joke in. Although he was a bit of an ass sometimes, he was a good soldier." Seeley chuckled. "He even tried to teach me how to pick a lock one time." He sniffed a bit more, obviously trying to hide how saddened he was.

"Shh." Camille tried to comfort. "You don't have to finish if you don't want to." His head swished lightly.

"No, I'll finish." He was getting a bit choked up. His breath was deep once again. "One day we were going on a mission on the forest. We were camouflaged, of course, hunkered against the brush. It was good camouflaged."

Another deep breath. "But... as the leader I told my men to stay down. Teddy... he didn't listen. The, uh, the enemy saw him... He got shot." It was clear now that tears were rolling down his cheeks. Camille's hand lightly brushed against his cheek, wiping them up.

"I tried, Camille. I really tried to save him; bring him home with me. I carried him for a long time. He, um, he didn't make it. He died in my arms." His heavy head landed with a thump on Camille's shoulder and she let him cry.

That night Camille stayed. There was no love making, no intimacy. Just comfort. I settled down outside the door, just to be close. He let me in. He always let me in. I snuggled in between him and Camille that night, put my nose to his face and let him settle in to my soft belly and cry.

I wasn't the only thing that he named after Teddy. Only a year or so after that his son was born.

Parker.

On the day that he brought me home, I sensed that Teddy Parker was something that ailed him. I was always thirsty for the truth, and that was something I tried desperately to search for.

"Oh, come here boy." he said, pulling me to him and putting me in to his lap. This was dangerous, I know, but it seemed to make him happy. After all, he had just bought a puppy! He switched the radio to an old song, he told me by a band named Foreigner.

However, I was thinking. This man that was holding me in his arms as he drove, who picked me out of a litter of puppies that looked exactly the same. He saw something in me. I made a silent promise to myself. I would be there for him, no matter what. I looked out the window as Seeley hummed along to the song, telling myself this.

And as it turns out, I would prove my loyalty to him. Three times over.

XXXXXXX

Seeley had proclaimed himself as a jock.

He saw more women than I dared to count, and still managed to keep up with his FBI training work. Within three years of my existence with this man, he secured a job as a special agent at the Hoover, as he called it.

Every day we had a routine. He would wake early and take me for a jog, then leave me to go in to the academy, coming home every evening with papers to write and tests to study for. This puzzled me. Why did he do this much homework to become a cop?

"Special Agent," he said to his women. "Special Agent Seeley Booth. Has a nice ring to it, no?"

That was the jock in him talking. From what I learned from television, jocks were snooty, womanizing jerks who would get nowhere in their lives and were incredibly self-centered. And yes, there was that cocky part of him (as proclaimed by his groin embellishment), but he still had a heart.

Even from the beginning he had a permanent woman in his life. Gambling. And yes, she was a bitch. He would go to pool halls almost every weekend, sometimes bringing home the big bucks and treat me with a rawhide, but others he would come home losing so bad that he would barely be able to pay the month's rent. Those were the months that he would rely on a second job flipping burgers. He even went to Vegas once, but left broke.

I didn't go along for that ride.

Sometimes he would take me to the bars, too. He would pass me off by saying that he was prone to seizures, and that I was there to sense them. Really, I was just there to meet women with him. He said that I was a chick magnet.

Whatever that meant.

I observed him in the bars. He would meet with buddies from the military and joke and laugh and drink for hours. The women would come by, some taking interest. On some nights, he would get lucky. On occasions, he wouldn't even make it back home, but would excuse himself with the girl to the restroom or the alleyway, calling it a "smoke break". His friends would cackle and wolf-whistle behind them.

When he didn't get any women, that's when his old girl gambling came for a visit. The pool halls he took me to were dark, dingy. I didn't much like them. They smelled of beer and cigarettes. Money would go back and forth. It made me almost sad to see him like this. After he got his act together, I made sure he went in to a support group.

Somehow this man passed school.

I was never in the slightest interested in his dirty habits. He never realized I didn't like being carted around like a plaything, though. Before I heard his talk with Camille, I was desperately searching, trying to find anything about Teddy, with no success. I became frustrated. I would chew things, destroy them in my anger.

Seeley got frustrated. Sometimes in his drunken stupors he would lash out at me. I regretted it a bit, but was never truly sorry.

I was like this until the end; getting frustrated and destroying.

When Bones first came to live with us, I would lash out. This was too new, too sudden. I wanted this to be a slow, steady thing. Why couldn't they see that that was the most rational thing to do? Of course, getting Bones pregnant was not at all rational.

"Booth, he's doing it again." Bones eyed me as I tore through one of Parker's National Geographic Kids magazines, the shreds flying through the air. Seeley was just helping her to move some of her stuff in to his apartment, and was carrying a pile of her clothes that he couldn't see me behind.

"He's probably frustrated. This is really new, even to us. He's confused."

But that didn't stop Bones, her pregnancy hormones already settling in jump from her spot watching a documentary on the couch to the kitchen, where she tore the tattered magazine out of my jaws and stalked off to find Seeley.

"Look what he did. This is the new one, too! I was going to read it with Parker this weekend when he came over." I heard Seeley drop the clothes on his bed and pad in to the kitchen. He just looked at me and the pieces of glossy paper at my feet and sighed.

"It's all right. I'll just go and get him a new one." He looked at Bones, who had just come up behind him. "At least try and be nice to him. He's really a good dog, he just has a short temper."

Seeley looked over his shoulder at her. "Please?" She smiled sweetly, the glow of the new pregnancy showing itself. She kissed him tenderly in response.

"I love you, Bones." he said quietly.

"I love you too." she answered without skipping a beat. If I could form proper sounds, I would be 'aww'ing.

He smiled his brightest smile and lightly patted her belly. "I'll go get the broom."

He wasn't wrong. Every time something changed dramatically, it would always set off my anger. You can imagine how I felt when he drank regularly on weekends and was a heavy gambler. Even when he would come home too drunk to speak and would drag me to the bed with him to lay his head on, I would glower at him until I fell asleep.

XXXXXXXX

Of course, there were the women.

"It's part of being a jock," he would always explain to me. I would still grunt disapproval. He was a wonderful man, but he was too cocky with his women in the early days.

He favored blondes, flat out. They were always the ones with the most body alterations. His Bones would always frown on this. I liked that about her. She was 100 percent real Bones.

The first blondes were frustrating. Annoying. Usually uneducated. Dumbly hanging on to Seeley's shoulders drunkenly, their stiletto heels hanging carelessly from their fingers. They would come home with him, chewing on their bubble gum and draping themselves on his shoulders. When he brought me to the bars with him, I was dragged along carelessly. He wouldn't even unclip my lead from my collar when he got home.

Sometimes he would offer a drink. Other times, maybe something to eat. But they always knew why they had come home with him. Some wouldn't even wait until they got home. It was disgusting, the way that the women would shove their hands in his pants in the elevator, him running his hands all over them.

This was not love. This was lust. I could smell it.

I knew that he was looking to settle down. Just, I hoped, not with a blonde.

One of the most memorable blondes of them all was Hannah. When he came home from Afghanistan and collected me from a friend's house, the first thing he told me in the car was that he had a new woman.

"You'll really like her, Teddy!" he rambled. "She's nice and sweet..."

_And probably blonde. _I thought silently. I was old then. I had had it with his blondes. I knew who he was meant to be with, but he would never pay attention when I nuzzled next to her.

When he brought her home, I had another episode. When Seeley carelessly discarded her jacket on to the floor, making their way to his bedroom for a good romp, I seized that opportunity immediately. He let me in to bed after he was done, as usual but when he discovered what I had done the next morning he got mad.

"Teddy!" his cry pierced my ears that were still napping peacefully in the rays of the morning sun. I opened my eyes blearily but kept my head down. I knew what he had discovered. I covered my snout with my leg.

He found me in a second, holding the torn piece of tawny fabric in his hand. He was standing in nothing but his boxer shorts, which unfortunately made him less intimidating.

"Why did you do this?" he growled, striding over to me and grabbing me by the scruff of my neck. In my old age I became less accepting to this kind of talking-to and I growled back at him. "Don't do that. You're being horrible." his teeth were bared, threatening me. Telling me that he's the alpha-male. I bared my teeth back. He just grabbed me harder.

"Why do you do this? Every time I bring a woman home. Every time!" He was shouting now. It was too much for my ears.

I'm not proud of what I did; I bit him.

He howled and jumped back, Hannah immediately rushing in. She had only a thin cotton robe wrapped around her full frame. It sickened me; didn't she see that she was nothing but a blonde plaything to him?

She took him to the hospital to get stitches. Of course, Bones offered to look at it for him after he called her saying he would be late. He rejected her, making me angrier.

Rage encompassed me, but I stayed in bed all day. I controlled it. The best I could, at least.

It got a bit better after Bones gave me a rawhide chew after that incident.

He proposed to her not because he loved her, I knew. He just wanted me, and Bones to believe it. When he told her that he wanted to get engaged, I could see her heart breaking. My heart broke a little bit, too knowing that if they got married, Bones would die before she loved anyone else.

This was my breaking point. A dark moment of my life. I could sense it on Bones, too. When Seeley brought me to the lab with him I would find her, in her office or down in bone storage and would nuzzle up against her. Her sweet flowery scent would invade my nose as I gently allowed myself to be stroked by her.

_This should be Seeley, not me. _I thought silently. Her sad blue-gray eyes bore in to my own. I pitied her.

I knew that Seeley was a religious man. I prayed to his supposed 'God' that he would see his error and go to her.

Every night I wished that.

Sure, there were other women that weren't blonde. Before Bones, Camille had always been my favorite of his women. She was at least well-educated and she took interest in his job. She was a coroner, so naturally she worked with crime. He was barely out of school when he met her at a conference.

I knew that she was here to stay for a while the first night he brought her home. I had met her once before, but only briefly for coffee.

Seeley was such a lamb. He made dinner and bought expensive beer. When she came over, she wore a glamorous dress; light red and spaghetti-strapped.

They talked for a long time. About their interests, hobbies, likes and dislikes. She tried to get to know him. When he served the food, a baked sausage lasagna with Caesar salad and bread, it was the first thing that she complimented.

"Wow, Seeley. This is really great." He flashed her his cockiest smile.

"Thanks. My granddad was a real great cook."

This was also the first time that I heard Bones' name.

"So, um, have you ever considered getting a partner?" she asked.

"No need. I fly solo."

"Come on. Every good agent has a partner." she pried. It was true, he knew. All of the most successful agents that he remembered had a partner.

"Depends, what's his name?" Camille smirked.

"Actually, I had more of a 'she' in my mind." Seeley looked almost disgusted. "Oh come on now. I met her at the conference where we met. She's very smart and just started at the Jeffersonian, which has the best forensics program in the country. They could be a valuable asset." Seeley scoffed.

"Depends. What's _her_ name?" he corrected. "Maybe when I feel the need I'll look her up."

And that's when Camille said it. "Temperance Brennan."

Of course, he wouldn't remember it. She would have to tell him the name again five years later for it to really get to him that a partner could be beneficial.

I was sad when Camille left, and hurt when she was replaced quickly by a different woman whose hair was as blonde as a golden retriever.

But this woman, even though he left her, would never really go away.

**XXXXXXXXXX **

**A/N: Thanks for reading! What did I do right? Did I seriously mess something up? Come on! Don't be afraid to drop me a line! (You'll have time, too. I don't think the next installment will be up for a while.)** **If you do, maybe I'll write another chapter by the time June 1****st**** rolls around...**


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